


How I Met your Mother

by mathildia



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Rape To Romance, towers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 02:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12925779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathildia/pseuds/mathildia
Summary: What if that business in the tower, took a little longer?





	How I Met your Mother

When Hook wakes in the maiden’s room at the top of the tower, he’s chained to the bed. He recognises the sensation quickly. It’s not quite new. But he is certain he did not take such pleasures the night before, so he opens his eyes with a snap, adrenaline jolting through his body.

“What the _hell_ …?”The first thing he sees is a woman, a stranger. “Who the hell are you?”

She smiles like she’s waiting for him to work it out.

“Are you…? Are you the bloody witch? Gothel? Have you stolen the maiden away again? Hidden her again?” He snarls and struggles with the manacles that draw his wrists up over his head. They clank against the posts of the bed. 

It is, in truth, one manacle, on the left the chain is attached to his hook. It glitters in a shaft of sunlight, as he struggles to find an escape.

Gothel still only smiles.

“ _Release me!_ What business do you have with me?”

Finally she speaks. She says, “Seems I’ve got a real genus here?”

He rattles the chain again and a realisation traces a cold prickle down his spine. “Release me!” he growls at her. “Listen Missy, you don’t know what you’re doing here. I’m Captain Hook.”

“Yes I am aware. And I know exactly what I’m doing,” Gothel says sweetly. “I really do.” She steps closer and leans down. There’s a sheet on the bed, drawn up past his waist. He’s naked under it. He feels his vulnerability wash over him like a wave. “I won’t be releasing you just yet, Captain. I need something from you.” Still smiling, she reaches out and squeezes his dick through the sheet.

“What? What do you want?” he wails, before his eyes meet hers and they both look to where she’s holding him. “I see,” he says, pulling himself together quickly as a realisation dawns. Because he is no coward, and if he is to be taken, he will be sure to be be taken like a man. “Well you wouldn’t be the first, Missy,” he says, with a swagger to his voice that is all artifice.

“I’m glad you’re going to be so accommodating,” she says, drawing back the sheet. He inhales hard, sharply, as the air hits him. He’s damp there, sticky. She’s done this once already. He forces the thought away.

“You can tell yourself that if you want ,Missy, but I don’t see how I exactly have a choice.”

“True,” she says, climbing onto the bed and straddling him. “But it is a little more fun if you enjoy it.”

“Aye, Missy, whatever my lady wants,” he says as she leans down to kiss him.

*

“Permission to come aboard?”

He opens his eyes. It takes a moment, but first he feels the cramps in his arms, still held up, over his head. Gothel is there. She climbs onto the bed. Onto him. 

“Please,” he says, meeting her eyes as they open after fluttering briefly closed. “Could I have some water.”

She smiles. “Duty first, captain.”

He’s sore, but it doesn’t take long. It’s mechanical, like he’s a thing, a means to an end. He comes with a long shudder. Everything aches. Everything is dry. She shoves a damp cloth into is mouth and he sucks on it like an invalid. 

When it’s done, he spits it out. “You can't mean to keep me here this way.” She’s adjusting her dress, gazing at his naked body. He hopes she pulls the cover over him when she’s done.

“Of course I can. The magic you fetched me will help, of course. If your tasks ever prove too much for you.”

She touches his dick, limp and spent, and something crackles in her hand. He feels himself growing hard again. He winces. It feels wrong, like biting down on ice. 

She sees it, the flinch, and seems to like it. “Good boy,” she says, stroking him. Her voice drops to a low hiss. “I can take you whenever I want, Captain. I’d rather you were willing, but I don’t need you to be. Understand.”

“Aye.”

She takes her hand away.

*

She feeds him pieces of apple, cut from a whole fruit she holds, sitting next to him on the bed. He’s so hungry he doesn’t complain, just opens his mouth, stretches out his tongue when she teases him by holding a piece out of reach, laughing. 

Later she says, “If you prefer, I could look like the maiden again. Would you prefer that?”

“No,” he says. “But I’d like to know why you’re doing this.”

“It’s what the curse wants me to do,” she says. 

He hates curses. 

The skin around his wrist is sore from struggling. “I will escape, you know,” he says. “I’ve escaped from many prisons before.”

“I don’t doubt that you will try, Captain,” she says, “and it will be thrilling.” She’s stroking him again, climbing onto him again. He feels sick. He crushes away the feeling, the sense of being used, of being unable to control himself. He gets hard under her hand. “Sometimes I wonder if I needed to get any magic at all for this,” she says. "Always so willing." He feels a prickling of shame in his eyes that he has to blink away.

*

One day he says, “How did you come to learn magic?”

She’s lying next to him. A hand on her belly. 

“I was a girl. A dictator invaded the land where I lived. He took everyone with magical ability. Rounded them up to make spells to help his army fight. They trained us well. I escaped. Eventually.”

“Was this dictator a terrible brigand?” he says.

She nods. "Yes. A very terrible brigand.” Neither of them speak for a while.

Then he says, “I’m sorry.” And he thinks, that one day, when he is free of this place, he will find this dictator and kill him. Because it’s his fault he’s here now, suffering and used. 

He rattles his chain. “I don’t suppose you could?” he says, looking up at the manacles that hold him.

“No,” she says. “I don’t suppose I could.”

“I won’t escape,” he says.

“Yes you will,” she says.

“How does this break the curse?” he says.

She rolls over, presses her mouth to his ear and whispers, “You don’t want to know.”

“You think the machinations of your magic are beyond me, Missy?”

“Actually, yes I do, but thats not the issue. Trust me you really don’t want to know how this ends.”

*

“Sing me a song,” she says.

But when he does, she rushes across to the water closet and vomits. 

“Was I really so terrible?” he says when she straightens.

“No,” she says. “No it’s not that.”

**Author's Note:**

> https://mathildia.tumblr.com


End file.
